by Cindi Madsen
Liza slowly dragged her glass back toward herself, but she kept her narrowed eyes on Jess. “Wait. You volunteered to be DD tonight.”
“It’s not like I never volunteer.”
“Right, but you also volunteered last time.”
Jess picked up one of the worn coasters, hyperfocusing on it as if it were profound literature. “You’re welcome.”
“Yeah, but you’re acting weird. Like…” Liza threw her hands over her mouth. Kathy’s eyes widened.
Tanya was lost.
“Are you?” Liza asked, her hands coming down as quickly as they’d flown to her mouth, and Jess glanced at Kathy.
Oh. The light bulb popped on in Tanya’s head. No alcohol. When one of her cousins was pregnant, she’d also had a heightened sense of smell. Even things that smelled good would often send her running to the bathroom to puke.
“I, uh…” Jessica looked around, like a cow that’d been cornered and was trying to find a way out.
And Tanya was glad she hadn’t said that aloud. No woman wanted to be compared to a cow.
Jess lifted her chin. “I’m taking the fifth and cashing in my phone-a-friend lifeline.”
Kathy turned steady, interrogation-type eyes on Jess. “Honey, this ain’t no game show. There are only two answers. Yes or no.”
But Jessica had already extracted her phone and was dialing. Kathy made an excited squeaky noise as she bounced on her chair, making it rather obvious she’d be devastated if Liza had guessed wrong.
“Hey,” Jess said, and then she rolled her eyes. “You weren’t right exactly.” Big sigh. “Okay, fine. But like I told you, they would’ve been just as suspicious if I didn’t come with them tonight.”
“I’m going to be a grandma?” Kathy shrieked.
“Did you hear that?” Jess asked into the phone. The entire bar sure had, and pretty soon, everyone in town was going to know. “Putting you on speaker now.”
Wade’s voice came from the phone Jess placed in the center of the table. “Hello, ladies. Ma.”
“I’m a lady too,” Kathy huffed, and he chuckled.
“I guess I should just say ‘Hello, detectives.’ So, big news. Jess and I are gonna have a…”
Everyone at the table held their breath.
“New fence built on the south end of the property,” Wade finished.
“What?” Kathy barked into the phone, and if Tanya had been on the other end, she would’ve run, inability to reach through the device be damned.
“Yeah. Bright and early, so I need Jessica to be sober. Between digging holes, driving posts, and attaching rails, she’s gonna need her strength.”
The bar wasn’t known as a quiet place, but in that moment, Tanya was sure they could’ve heard a pin drop.
A snort-laugh escaped Jessica. Then she said, “You see, once our baby gets here, we’re going to need the extra protection so he or she doesn’t run into the road.”
Squeals erupted, along with a good-natured scolding from Kathy, followed by congratulations. Tanya was already envisioning a little Dawson toddling around the ranch. Naturally, the image in her mind changed to Brady. He scooped up the toddler, tossed the kiddo in the air, and then carefully placed his niece or nephew on a horse.
He’d be so good with kids. Here and there, Tanya had thought about children in the hazy, maybe someday future. She was hardly in spinster range, but she was creeping closer to the end of her twenties. There was still so much she wanted to do, though, and opening a rescue ranch sat at the tippy-top. If she had to go into a lot of debt, that’d be something else to consider, and why was her brain going there anyway?
Probably because she’d spent too much of her life waffling, and she was finally grabbing the reins and taking control. While she loved and appreciated her parents, she’d never be the doting wifey type. Once she managed to break free, the last thing she wanted was to be financially dependent on anyone ever again. Especially not a man. It threw off the power balance and left one party thinking they were entitled to make all the decisions.
Maybe the section of the book she’d rage skipped was right. She wasn’t demure or super feminine, and she turned everything into a competition. Apparently everything about her, including her goals and all the trash-talking she did, meant she immediately put guys on the defensive, and that killed the allure.
Naturally, she’d discovered those tidbits while she was smack-dab in the middle of one of her and Brady’s infamous competitions. Since she’d involved several townsfolk who’d put in a lot of work, she couldn’t exactly forfeit. Nor could she take back the trash talk. She wasn’t sure her pride would allow her to do either, even if she could.
So if that were truly the case, she’d be firmly in the friend zone forever.
Chapter 11
The brown-and-white-faced stallion backed into the corner of the stall as Maddox approached. On his first day at the ranch—back when he’d tried to help the wild-eyed animal escape—he never would’ve guessed he’d pop in for visits.
“I was hoping to talk to you,” Maddox said, dangling a carrot over the gate. They’d been doing this song and dance for the past week. While the horse obviously didn’t do a lot of replying, there was something about saying things aloud. Somehow it felt less crazy talking to the cagey horse than to himself. Not to mention he had too many roommates and people surrounding him at all times for that.
Each day, it took less and less time for the horse to snatch the bait. Sure enough, the stallion cautiously trod over and nibbled the carrot. The loud crunch filled the air, inspiring the other horses to lift their heads in envy.
“Harlow wants to ‘amp up the stakes’ of our training with personal questions, and I’m not sure if I should.” Maddox curled his hands around the top rung of the gate, nice and slow so he wouldn’t startle the horse. “I’m sure you understand rocky pasts and the desire to avoid people who might hurt you. But I’m happier around her, and I want to make her happy, too.”
The horse nickered, and Maddox slowly extended his hand. The stallion sniffed at it, but when Maddox tried to gently pet the horse, it backed away.
Right as he was about to declare it a sign he shouldn’t play Harlow’s game, the stallion came closer again. Almost as if he wanted affection but didn’t know how to receive it.
And now he was assigning random feelings to a horse.
But when Maddox stepped down from the gate, the horse stuck its head over the top and sniffed again. He supposed if a wild stallion could take a chance on a guy like him, maybe he could be brave, too.
Less than an hour later, he gathered his courage and knocked on the open door of Nick’s office. Ordinarily, he’d avoid the place at all costs, but Brady had come into the stables, and Maddox had run his idea by the guy. Unfortunately, he’d told him that Nick would have to clear it. Not great news, since so far, Maddox had connected more with the cowboy in charge of the rodeo training than with his counselor.
Probably sad considering Brady still eyed him suspiciously and Maddox assessed him much the same way, although he hid it better. At least Brady wasn’t as stern as Wade and never pushed Maddox to spill his emotions and details about his past like Nick did.
All that working against him, his heart cranking as fast as a lug nut in an impact driver, and yet here he was anyway. Ready to grovel but trying not to let that show.
“Maddox, nice to see you. Did we have an appointment?” Nick shuffled papers around, moving them off one of those big desk calendars and tapping today’s date.
“Nah. I just needed to ask you a question.”
“Come on in.”
Maddox wanted to say he’d rather not, but that probably wasn’t the best way to get what he wanted. All because of a girl, too.
His boots seemed to weigh a hundred pounds each as he took a couple of steps inside, remaining closer to the door than th
e cushy couch that might lull him into a false sense of security. He licked his suddenly dry lips. “You know how Harlow and I have been training for the rodeo?”
Nick’s face dropped, which didn’t inspire a lot of confidence.
Might as well charge on with it. “Anyway, she came up with this… I guess you’d call it a game. If I miss when we’re roping, Harlow gets to ask me a question, and I have to answer it honestly.”
A spark of interest flickered before Nick’s expression morphed into his more neutral, contemplative one.
Okay, he didn’t immediately shut me down. That’s a good sign. I hope.
Maddox shoved his hands deep into his pockets, keeping his detached facade in place. “I thought I’d have her help me work on Miss Jessica’s car. Whenever Harlow misses a part name or what it does, I get to ask her a question.”
Nick propped his chin on his fist, unblinking eyes locked on Maddox. “I like the thought of you opening up to someone.”
Ugh, of course he made it all about gushy feelings.
“I’ll allow it,” Nick said, and Maddox held his breath, “on a few conditions…”
The groan Maddox was supposed to keep trapped inside escaped. That earned him a scowl, so he straightened, as if that would inspire forgiveness. “Sorry. Force of habit.”
“You need to start opening up in our sessions, too.”
He’d rather jab a red-hot needle in his eye. “What if I say forget about it, then?”
The crooked smirk that spread across Nick’s face made it clear Maddox had revealed too much. “I don’t think you will.”
The guy had him, and he knew it. Maddox’s shoulders deflated. “Fine.”
“Good. Now, here are the other rules.” Nick ticked them off on his fingers. “No roping or working on the car after dark; the car needs to be lifted a few extra feet so you two aren’t hidden from sight; and lastly…” A deadly serious edge hardened Nick’s features and tone. “Harlow is a sweet girl. You hurt her, and we’re gonna have a problem.”
As much as Maddox hated rules, those particular ones were for the best. They’d keep him in check. He and Harlow were simply getting acquainted. It wasn’t like he wanted to kiss her or anything.
Nope, those pink, heart-shaped lips didn’t tempt him in the least. He definitely didn’t want to press his mouth to them and take a tiny taste. The temperature in the room rose, and he worked to sustain his stony expression. “All right.”
“All right.” Nick straightened his stack of papers, tapping them against the desk to line them up. “And I’ll expect you to be nice and chatty tomorrow morning.”
The things I’m willing to do, all so I can spend an extra twenty minutes a day with a girl I absolutely don’t want to kiss.
Chapter 12
Tanya: Meet me at our place?
In his relief over her responding with something besides “I need some time,” Brady nearly dropped his phone in a fresh cow pie. The runt of a calf that’d been born late in the season circled back around to admire his steaming pile of handiwork, curious as a cat and about as finicky.
After bumbling around with his phone, Brady bit the fingertip of his glove and tugged his hand free of the leather so he could type a return—before Tanya changed her mind.
Brady: Give me five to ten to wrap up my day, and I’ll be on my way.
At least the chores were mostly finished. Maddox had returned to the boys’ cabin about five minutes ago, so the kids were all accounted for, too. Trace was on lockup duty tonight, which left Brady free to latch the gate to the field he’d been working in and rush toward his pickup truck.
The sky grumbled, drawing his gaze upward. Roiling black clouds had rolled in this afternoon, turning rain from a possibility to a certainty. The crops needed the moisture, but he pleaded for the weather to hold out long enough that he could at least have his meetup with Tanya. She’d been acting as cagey as that wild stallion since storming out of the Tumbleweed, and Brady had planned on storming the dude ranch this evening if it came down to that. There was giving someone time, and then there was going crazy, and he was mighty close to that second thing.
It was for you, you asshole.
The words had slammed into him, rousing his carnal side. Just like that, the friendship switch fully flipped, desire going from a flicker to blinding in an instant. As if it’d been there all along, and the dam holding it back had finally burst.
His first instinct had been to charge after her, yank her to him, and kiss the hell out of her, but even as his internal organs rampaged, an unexpected amount of fear had frozen him in place. Restraint had never been his specialty, but he didn’t want to clamor through one of the most important relationships in his life like a bull in a china shop. He’d seen too many broken people in his day, usually as a result of those who claimed to love them.
The shocks in his truck loudly complained as Brady drove the familiar, bumpy path. He pulled up to the large cottonwood, and his headlights illuminated the redheaded woman leaning against the trunk.
The two years she’d been at college had been the loneliest he’d ever felt—surrounded by a ranch full of people, no less. Back then, he and Nash had competed in about any and every rodeo that’d have them. In the quiet moments, though, he’d felt the gaping absence of her in his daily life.
Whatever you do, do not screw this up.
If the band around his chest grew any tighter, it’d snap him clean in half. Brady pushed out the door of the truck, his footsteps loud in the stillness. “No horse?”
“Felt like a walk.”
Weirdness choked the air, and this was exactly what he’d feared the most. That no matter which way things went, he’d lose an amazing friendship that went so much deeper they needed a new word for it.
Since Tanya wasn’t taking the lead on the conversation—the norm for whoever had called the meetup—Brady inclined his head toward the bed of the truck. At her nod, he opened the tailgate, sat, and patted the spot next to him.
Tanya hopped up, the pickup barely bouncing with her weight, and her scent mixed with the smell of the looming rain.
Once they were settled in place, the crickets picked up their evening melody. Brady listened, counting the chirps as he watched the second hand on his watch. The oncoming storm meant the air was cooler, so their chirps were slower, and he counted until his watch hit thirteen seconds.
“Twelve chirps plus forty means it’s about fifty-two degrees,” he said, as if it were a normal night and the temperature was the most pressing matter. “When you think about it, crickets have it so easy.”
Tanya lowered her eyebrows. “Crickets?”
This was a perfect example of what happened when a bull took the lead, but in for a dime, in for a dollar. “Yeah. The dude just rubs his legs together and boom, the females are so impressed at the racket that they come to find him.”
Sputtered laughter erupted from Tanya, dissipating the awkwardness in the air between them. Then she lay all the way back in the bed of the truck, not a care to the dirt and hay dust. Her hair contrasted with the dark plastic lining and, with the extra humidity in the air, her curls were bigger than ever, wild and untamed. His fingers twitched with the urge to plow through all that silky, fiery red. “Human males have it easy, too,” she said.
Brady lay next to her, clinging to the normalcy of the move, even though he couldn’t help being keenly aware of the brush of their arms and the way her breasts rose and feel with each breath. “How so?”
“Oh, please.” The dim light of the moon played across her features, softening one and then the other as the clouds muted its glow. “All you have to do is grin or flex, and females come running.”
“And all women have to do is smile and bat their eyes. Maybe add a hair flip.”
She rolled to face him and propped her cheek on her fist. “I, uh, tried that. You thought I ha
d something in my eye.”
A snort-laugh escaped, and Tanya began to pull away. Brady tugged her to him and guided her head onto his shoulder, and then he secured an arm around her waist to prevent any further attempts to flee. “In my defense, that was eye twitching if I ever did see it. Winking goes more like…”
Brady lifted his head an inch or two and gave her an exaggerated wink.
Evidently, his skills weren’t what they used to be, because the muscles in her jaw tightened as she shook her head.
He twisted his neck so they were nose to nose. “Talk to me, Yaya. It feels like you’re mad at me.”
“I am mad at you.”
“For which part?” he asked, since he didn’t doubt she had a reason to be. Once he learned where he’d messed up, he could apologize for it and then they could figure out the rest—they had to. Honestly, that was the main reason he hadn’t even let himself indulge in the idea of more. It was a lot to risk, and that was if he hadn’t already gone and ruined it.
“I’m pissed at you for not reading my mind, okay? And I know that’s silly. It’s just I had all these expectations of you noticing how pretty I looked and that somehow my newfound flirting skills would unlock this, like, secret desire. I guess I sorta hoped that after I’d put in all that effort, you’d read the signs and do the rest.”
Brady drifted his fingers down the soft skin on her arm and folded her hand into his. “Is that still what you want? Because I can’t read your mind. There’s a lot at stake, so I need you to tell me.”
Tanya buried her face against his shoulder, causing her words to come out muffled. “I… Now that this conversation is finally happening, I’m trying not to freak out. I get it. It’s complicated, and in typical fashion, I made it—and everything really—messier than it should be. That’s before I add on a whole other issue that I didn’t realize I had before today, even though I really should’ve.”
“Uh, how long till we get to the part where you tell it to me straight?” Patience was for people with time, and he didn’t have reserves of either of those things.